


When Two Suns Set

by ScarlettFAngell



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Luke, Awkward Sexual Situations, Blow Jobs, Blushing Luke, Boba Fett Being a Jerk, Boba Fett is a BAMF, Boba fett is a dad, Criminal Kingpin Boba, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fennec is a Troll, Grogu | Baby Yoda Being a Little Shit, Hand Jobs, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kissing, M/M, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Mutual Pining, Oblivious Din Djarin, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Season/Series 02, Slow Burn, The Mandalorian Darksaber (Star Wars), fighting as flirting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:20:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28600587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarlettFAngell/pseuds/ScarlettFAngell
Summary: Boba Fett has had his revenge and now he had his own throne with Fennec as his enforcer. And damn, but it feels good. At least, it does until Skywalker shows up with the kid and then days later, so does Din. He thought he’d finally gotten a moment of peace... He was never gonna have a peaceful day again. Damned Jedi.Or the one where Boba suddenly finds himself looking after the kid, the jedi AND Din.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Boba Fett, Din Djarin/Boba Fett/Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 36
Kudos: 323





	When Two Suns Set

**One**

**_It was all going_ **swimmingly. He’d taken over what was left of Jabba’s criminal empire and was slowly building it back up with Fennec’s help. So far, there’d been no complications and with some very good luck, he wouldn’t have too many problems. Which was good, because he was fucking tired. He finally had his father’s armour back and he’d helped Djarin get his foundling back, even if Luke fucking Skywalker had shown up right after, cut through Gideon’s dark troopers like they were nothing and then took off again just as swiftly. With the damn kid. 

It didn’t matter, much. If he ever learned that Din or the kid needed him, he’d go looking. But for now? He had an empire to run.

Which was why he was lounging on his new throne, feet propped up on the left arm while he leaned against the right, blaster laid across his lap and helmet set down meaningfully by his elbow. He was bored, but he’d let the stupid prat before him keep talking. The kid was young, was from the core worlds and was really fucking green. Why anyone had sent him was beyond Boba, but it was mildly entertaining to watch as he just kept digging a deeper hole. Fennec was lingering nearby, bottle of Spotchka in hand. 

He definitely wasn’t expecting the fucking Jedi to come strolling into the throne room like he owned it, the little one firmly perched on his hip. Oh, he had his hood up but Boba knew. 

He shifted upright, feet dropping onto the floor as he looked past the core kid, watching Skywalker stroll right up behind said core kid, hand grabbing his blaster. But he didn’t lift it, not yet. The kid was there. There was the barest hint of a smirk to be glimpsed at beneath his hood. Boba’s gaze narrowed. 

“What are you doing here?”

Everything stopped. Core kid squeaked and nearly fell over his feet, quickly realising that Boba wasn’t focused on him anymore, turning to stare at the Jedi behind. Skywalker lifted a shoulder and gestured to the kid. 

“He wanted to see you.”

Boba scowled. “He doesn’t even know me.”

The Jedi laughed. “Yes,” he said, completely unfazed, “actually, he does.”

He scoffed at that and settled back against the throne, not believing a word. “Sure, he does,” he said and glanced to Fennec, then back to Skywalker. “Why are you really here?”

The Jedi hesitated and then glanced down at the kid. The little womp rat grunted and waved a hand at him. Boba didn’t react to it. Skywalker looked up and shrugged. 

“He says his father will be here soon.”

Boba frowned at that. Huh. Interesting. Did that mean Din was going to come to Tatooine? He wasn’t sure but he’d let it slide. This time. He gestured vaguely at Fennec.

“Find him a room, Fennec.” And then he returned to casually lounging on his throne. Fennec sent him a look then pushed off the wall and stalked out of the room. No one said a word. In fact, Boba was sure they were barely breathing. He really ought to shoot the Jedi before he caused trouble. 

Skywalker casually strolled over and perched on the edge of the dais by the throne. He wasn’t even a foot away. Boba half-watched him as he set the kid down, a muscle near his jaw twitching. Stars, how he wanted to shoot Skywalker. Boba refrained, though—purely because of the kid. Speaking of which... He wasn’t surprised when the Child waddled towards him and pawed at his leg. Boba turned to look down at him. 

“What, kid?”

The Child babbled and reached up for him, and Boba raised an eyebrow at him. 

“No.”

The ears fell flat and he gurgled, looking really sad. Boba heaved a sigh, leaned down and hauled the kid up onto the throne beside him. The kid giggled and cooed happily, swaying slightly. Boba snorted and leaned against the right arm of the throne, looking out across the room with a slightly bored edge to his gaze. 

Everyone was watching him like he’d just grown another head. Boba smirked at that, getting comfortable. Let them all think what they wanted—especially if they thought he was soft. He wasn’t. He was just the cloned son of a Mandalorian—and Mandalorians had some fucking morals. Like never, ever hurting kids. Boba never intended to let Din’s kid get hurt. In fact, the brat was eyeing off his blaster intently. He moved the blaster off his lap and out of reach of the kid, but otherwise didn’t act like he was aware of the kid’s intentions. Beside the throne, Skywalker had leaned back on his elbows and crossed his legs at the ankles. 

Core Kid’s mouth was gaping open and Boba fixed his attention on him. “What?”

“N-Nothing,” he stuttered, trembling all over. 

Boba grunted and waved him off. “Then we’re done here. Get out.”

“B-but—“

“Tell your bosses not to send out a kid so green, he keeps digging his own grave and _maybe_ I’ll consider the offer.”

Core Kid fled and Skywalker chuckled, clearly amused. Boba didn’t look at him, even if he really wanted to shoot the fucking Jedi. He eyed up the room then picked up the helmet, put it on and grabbed the blaster. Then he stood, taking the kid with him and gestured for Skywalker to follow him. 

Boba swept out of the throne room, the hooded Jedi right on his heels. They meet Fennec in the hall and Boba hefted the kid higher on his hip. Fennec grinned when she spotted him. 

“Heya, kid,” she said and bent down to offer the kid her hand when he wiggled and waved at her, gurgling happily. He took it, happily babbling away at her. “Did you come to see your favourite bounty hunter?”

Boba rolled his eyes at that and turned his head to look at Skywalker. “Seriously, why are you putting up with this shit?”

“Dunno. Why haven’t you shot me yet?”

He snorted. “The kid.”

“Huh,” the Jedi said and tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe. “I see.” He turned his head towards Boba. “So he’s the only thing staying your hand?”

“Well, when you put it like that...”

“Oh, will you two stop flirting?” Fennec asked and they both turned to look at her. Skywalker laughed but Boba stayed mute. “As entertaining as it is, I really do not need to see that shit.”

“We are not flirting,” Boba hissed, pushing past her but being careful not to jostle the kid. The movement made the child lose his grip on her with a sad gurgle. “You would not understand how Mandalorians flirt.”

“I know that fighting turns you on.”

 _Oh, for—_ Boba growled and turned on her. “ _Fennec_.”

“What?” she asked, grinning at him. Completely unrepentant. Fucking hell. He’d created a monster. “Just telling it like it is, boss.”

“Shut up,” he hissed, eyes narrowed. The Child squirmed on his hip and made a soft, cooing sound. He ignored it and completely changed the topic. “The room?”

“Opposite yours. Figured he’d be safest there.”

Boba nodded and then glanced to Skywalker. The Jedi was pale and looked like he’d been slapped. “I... I wasn’t... We weren’t—“

He knew what he was going to say, but thankfully Fennec took one look between them and finally decided to shut her damned mouth. Boba eyed the Jedi up carefully for a moment before he turned and headed off again, ignoring the renewed gurgling and babbling from the Child. 

“So,” Skywalker said after a moment, having recovered from Fennec’s meddling. “Jabba’s palace, huh? Whatever made you want to claim this piece of trash?”

Boba ignored him, leading the way deeper into the palace and to the corridor that led to rooms. He didn’t look back, didn’t check to see if the Jedi was following him. He knew the other man probably wouldn’t leave him alone with the kid. That was fine by him. He wouldn’t leave himself alone with a kid, and that was saying something. Not because he’d do anything but because somehow, the kid’d probably end up dead anyway. Fuck, but that was a depressing thought. 

“Revenge,” he finally offered, stopping outside at the door to the rooms Fennec had picked. He didn’t look at the Jedi. Just scowled at the door for a long moment. “Figured it was Jabba’s fault, all the crap that happened that day. You know...the—“

“The sarlacc,” Skywalker finished for him, tone soft. Boba refused to look at him. “I understand. How long were you in there for?”

He grimaced and palmed the door open, stepping aside and gesturing for Skywalker to enter first. “Dunno. Days, hours maybe a week or more. All I know is the fucker died and I woke up in the desert, sans armour.” He shrugged, tilted his head. “Apparently some Jawas nicked it and sold it on to Cobb Vanth.”

“Those sneaky bastards,” the Jedi murmured, openly staring at him. “Bet they stripped it off you while you were unconscious, too.”

Boba snorted. “Probably thought I was dead. Certainly fucking felt like it.”

Skywalker nodded and then shifted awkwardly, glancing towards the kid then the room. Boba frowned, tending up. If the Jedi was going to try anything... 

“What?” he demanded, somewhat gruffly. 

The Jedi grimaced. “Nothing. It’s just... This is pretty civil for us. Last time we saw each other, you tried to kill me.”

He snorted. “And you weren’t trying to kill me?”

“We were there to rescue Han. You were just kind of...collateral damage...?”

Boba went still. Collateral damage, huh? Well, that was true. Didn’t mean he had to like it. “Yeah, you were the newest Jedi... I was just a bounty hunter. Bet you didn’t even know I was Mandalorian.”

“Or a clone.”

He flinched. “Don’t—“

Skywalker sighed. “I mean no offence, Boba. It’s just... I hear things and, well. Grogu told me about the clone thing. He says he picked up the memory of you and Din in that cantina, confronting Bo-Katan. That she said some, ah...very insulting things.”

Boba reached up and yanked his helmet off, then glanced down at the kid. Grogu, because apparently that was the kid’s name, stared right back up at him. “Really, kid?” he asked, then turned a piercing look on the Jedi. “And yeah, she did. Called my father my ‘donor’. I nearly shot her in her smug princess face right then and there, but Din was watching. And he needed them.”

The Jedi huffed out an amused little laugh. “Yeah, I can only imagine...”

“Also, I bet her face was fucking priceless when she realised Din had the darksaber.”

Skywalker grinned at him. “Oh, it looked like she’d swallowed something particularly sour. Did Fennec give you the copies of the security feeds she made?”

Boba scowled darkly. “No. Never mentioned that to me.”

“Ask her next time you see her,” he said and swept into the room, then paused and turned back. 

Oh, Boba would definitely be asking Fennec a few questions later. 

They stared at each other for a long moment and then the Jedi said, “Spotchka?” in a questioning tone and Boba let out a dark laugh. 

“Didn’t think Jedi drank,” he said, moving into the room. Skywalker shrugged again then turned and headed over to the room’s built-in bar. He closed the door and followed. “Thought you lot were all about denying yourself attachments and shit.”

He watched as the kid poured them both glasses. Boba casually took a seat on the couch, wrinkling his nose slightly at the lingering scent of burnt fabric. He’d need to get this one repaired or replaced... Yet another task to add to his ever-growing list.

“Usually, yes,” the Jedi said, settling opposite him. Boba set the kid down on the couch beside him, half an eye on the kid as he worked his way to the edge and down onto the floor. “But I figure that’s why they fell before. Attachments are not unwanted now. Neither is the occasional...indulgence.”

Was he implying what Boba thought he was? Fucking hell. Jedi behaving like actual people? That was a first. Skywalker leaned forwards and offered him a glass. Boba took it, trying to ignore it when their fingers brushed. 

“Indulgence, hm. Fascinating.” He took a sip of the Spotchka and grinned at Skywalker over the rim of the blue, thickly cute glass. “And attachments? Why, Skywalker, have you found yourself some bedmates?”

That earned him a flush and splutter—the Jedi had been taking a sip when he asked the question and he nearly spat his mouthful out. He took a moment to swallow thickly before replying. “What—? No!” The kid paused briefly, taking a deep breath before shooting him a dark look. “I mean—fuck, Boba. Really? While I’m drinking? Fucking hell.”

It was entertaining as all hell to watch a Jedi swear, especially at him. It was also _not_ an answer—and definitely _not a no_. _Interesting_. Boba smirked, taking another sip before turning to pin the kid with a disapproving look. Grogu had had his hand raised, one hand pressed against the door as if he were about to open it with the Force. Now he just tried to give Boba the guilty sad eyes, gurgling softly. 

“Don’t you dare, kid. Get back over here.”

The kid grumbled a bit but waddled back over towards them, hiking himself up onto the couch beside Skywalker and pushing at his thigh. Boba’s gaze narrowed as he watched their interaction. Skywalker ignored the kid, downing the rest of his drink before he plonked the glass down on the table between them. 

“What is it, Grogu?” he asked, finally turning his attention to the kid. Grogu babbled out some words that made absolutely no sense then pointed right at him. Boba blinked in surprise, lowering his glass. 

“What’s he saying?” he asked, curious despite himself. 

Skywalker made the most ridiculous, confused face before he looked over and frowned. “It doesn’t make much sense to me, though perhaps it makes more sense to you?”

Boba ground his teeth together, gaze flickering between the two of them. “Just tell me.”

“Fine,” the Jedi ground out, glancing at Grogu again before fixing his attention on Boba. He seemed to take a moment before translating the words. “He said, and I’m just quoting here, _‘when two suns set and the third moon rises, look to the stars and see the mighty mythosaur in them—He who comes to Reclaim our Home._ ’ Whatever the hell that means. Thanks, Grogu. Real helpful.”

He had gone very still while Skywalker spoke. _Fuck_. That sounded like a fucking _prophecy_. Why was he involved in some thrice-damned prophecy? He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know, but he had to ask, had to _clarify_. He cleared his throat carefully. “He say anything else?”

“Yeah, but it makes no sense to me...”

“Tell me.”

“ _Haat, Ijaa, Haa'it._ ”

He’d mangled the pronunciation and grammar, but Boba understood regardless. He’d heard that throughout his childhood, echoed by a hundred, thousand voices. A hundred, thousand _clones_. 

_Truth, Honor, Vision._

Fuck. The kid had just spoken a fucking prophecy to him and he’d included Mando'a. What the actual fuck? And what the hell did that shit about stars and mythosaurs mean? Boba leaned back in his seat, glass almost slipping out of his hand before he tightened his grip. Fucking hell...

Skywalker frowned at him. “You’re really pale all of a sudden,” he said, hesitantly. “I mean, you were already pale but, well, this is like you’ve seen a ghost or something...”

Boba swallowed thickly, gaze unfocused as he blindly lifted his glass and drained it. “Or something,” he replied, tone soft. “Grab the bottle, Skywalker. I think we’re gonna need it.”

He was hardly surprised when Skywalker complied. At least he didn’t ask fucking questions. Not like Fennec would. Stars, what had the galaxy come to? Him, sitting there sharing drinks with Skywalker. Being civil. Like they were fucking friends. At least they weren’t trying to kill each other. Boba’d drink to that.


End file.
